Something of the Vine’s Dream

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“By God begotten,”
Hymned the sunning vine,
“In my lyric children
Purple music flows!”
 “Singer,” breathed the rose bush,
“Are they not divine?”
“Have you any daughters
Mighty as a rose?”

Gotten out of star-glint,
Mothered of the Moon;
 Nurtured with the rose scent,
Wild elusive throng!
Something of the vine’s dream
Crept into a tune;
Something of the wheat-drone
Echoed in a song.

Once again the white fires
Smoked among the plums;
Once again the world-joy
Burst the crimson bud;
 Golden-bannered wheat broods
Marched to fairy drums;
Once again the vineyard
Felt the Bacchic blood.

“Lo, he comes,—the dreamer”—
Crooned the whitened boughs,
“Quick with vernal love-fires—
Oh, at last he knows!
See the bursting plum bloom
There above his brows!”
 “Boaster!” breathed the rose bush,
“’Tis a budding rose!”

Droned the glinting acres,
“In his soul, mayhap,
Something like a wheat-dream
Quickens into shape!”
Sang the sunning vineyard,
“Lo, the lyric sap
Sets his heart a-throbbing
Like a purple grape!”

Mother of the wheatlands,
Mother of the plums,
Mother of the vineyard—
All that loves and grows—
Such a living glory
To the dreamer comes,
Mystic as a wheat-song,
Mighty as a rose!”
~ ~ ~

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* Excerpts, John G. Neihardt

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Photography: Copyright, JayJacy Photography ©2013 All Rights Reserved
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Tagged: Art, HDR, Nature, Photography, Vineyards